Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh boards an Air Rajneesh plane for a trip off the rural Oregon commune.

Of all the wild tales in Oregon history, few are as bizarre as the saga of the Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh and the efforts of his followers to build their own city in rural Wasco County.

If you lived in Oregon in the early 1980s, you'll remember the sensation surrounding the Bhagwan. The spiritual leader from India came to America and brought thousands of devotees to the Big Muddy Ranch, outside the tiny town of Antelope. Clad in shades of red and purple, the Bhagwan's believers built their own commune, Rajneeshpuram. The invasion of newcomers, who many locals regarded as a cult, set the stage for a series of conflicts between the Bhagwan's followers and Wasco County officials.

At first, battles were fought over Oregon land-use laws. Media coverage showed improbable images of the Bhagwan riding around in his fleet of Rolls Royces, his followers beaming and throwing roses as he passed. But within a few short years, the story tuned dark and hostilities escalated, culminating in acts of biological terrorism, wiretapping and conspiracies to murder, engineered by members of the Bhagwan's core group of followers.

By 1985, the Bhagwan, his chief lieutenant, Ma Anand Sheela, and members of her group of co-conspirators were facing criminal charges. The Bhagwan left Oregon and flew back to India. His followers departed soon after, leaving the memory of an extraordinary episode.

The incredible story was extensively covered by The Oregonian, from the first days through a 2011 special report based on new access to government files and fresh interviews. It's again recounted in "Rajneeshpuram," a straightforward, compelling "Oregon Experience" documentary co-produced by Oregon Public Broadcasting and the Oregon Historical Society. The documentary airs Monday night.

Narrated by National Public Radio's Scott Simon, the documentary draws upon archival news coverage and interviews with former members of the commune, Oregonians who were there when it happened, as well as former Secretary of State Norma Paulus.

As a one-hour refresher course, "Rajneeshpuram" offers a concise reminder of events that still seem hard to believe. It begins with the 1981 arrival in Oregon of the Bhagwan, whose religious vision was, as Simon says, "both earthy and divine, sensuous and spiritual," emphasizing meditation as well as celebrating life's joys and passion.

Marion Goldman, professor of religious studies at the University of Oregon, explains that the Bhagwan's philosophy was appealing to well-to-do, successful Westerners. Of the followers who came to the Oregon commune, about two-thirds were college graduates, many with advanced degrees.

However, during most of his time in Oregon, the Bhagwan kept a vow of silence, speaking only to close confidants. Which is how the former Sheela Silverman, who took the name Ma Anand Sheela, became the public voice of the commune. A divisive figure from the start, Sheela ran into resistance from Wasco County officials and others who objected to land zoned for farm use being transformed into a small city.

Sheela's response was to become more aggressive. She engineered a plan to place members of the commune on the Antelope City Council; Rajneeshpuram formed its own gun-toting security force; and, in an attempt to dominate local elections, thousands of homeless men were recruited from around the country and transported to Rajneeshpuram, where they would be registered to vote.

"Rajneeshpuram"

What: An "Oregon Experience" documentary

When: 8 p.m. Monday

Channel: KOPB (10)

And that wasn't all: Trying to depress local voter turnout, Sheela and her collaborators contaminated salad bars at restaurants in The Dalles with salmonella, sickening hundreds of people.

As allegations of criminal activity surrounding the commune intensified, things fell apart. In 1985 Sheela flew to West Germany. The Bhagwan, still at the ranch, ended his silence and turned on Sheela, accusing her cadre of creating "a small fascist state here," adding "these people are absolutely criminals." The Bhagwan accused them of attempted murder of his personal physician, wiretapping and the salmonella poisonings.

It ended up in court, as members of the commune were charged with, among other crimes, attempted murder, arson, immigration fraud, arson and wiretapping. The Bhagwan pleaded no contest to charges involving immigration fraud, paid a $400,000 fine and flew back to India in November of 1985. Sheela pleaded guilty to arson, wiretapping and poisoning and served 2 1/2 years in federal prison.

The documentary ends by informing us that the Bhagwan, who had taken the name Osho, died in India in 1990. But sales of his books and recordings "remain robust."

That last detail is unexpected, but perhaps it shouldn't be. Where this true-life tale of faith, betrayal and crime is concerned, nothing should be surprising.